Impossible to Hide
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Carson/Hughes, and restraint; but not from the usual one of the pair.
1. Chapter 1

**To make up for my recent negligence. In a nutshell: the first time that Carson/Hughes have sex. Choose whatever time frame you like. A resounding M.**

This was not at all what he had expected. Of course he had had expectations, though he was loathe to admit it; he was only human, with the best will in the world he couldn't have helped imagining what being with her- finally being with her- would be like. This- he had realised as his arms closed around her with a sense of great relief, of something, an invisible wall, finally breaking- had been a long time coming; growing gradually closer to one another, and they hadn't exactly been poles apart before they'd begun. They were bound to end up in each other's arms.

But he had not imagined this. He had successfully predicted that she would be beautiful- so very beautiful-; even with a degree of accuracy: he had almost known how wonderful the contrast of her dark hair and her white, white skin would be; how almost hypnotically her bear figure curved under his hands. He had known how happy this would make him. What he had not been able to conceive of before was what she would be like to make love to; how she would react to it.

That she was responding to him, that she was aroused, was impossible to hide. He stated that quite confidently, because it was evident that she trying her best to. It started almost as soon as his kisses left her lips, moving down her neck. When he removed his lips from the violently flushing skin, he saw the deep crease in her lip where she was biting back sound from escaping.

And it continued. She did not stop him from gently peeling back the dress from her collarbone, from her bosom, though he undid the hooks slowly so as to give her plenty chance to do so. His kisses latched back on to where they had left off, following the flush slowly down to the top of her corset, adoring the curve of her restrained breast. A tentative hand pressed the back of his head, holding him there. Yet when he lifted his head to rid her of the remains of her dress an cursed corset, he found her eyes shut tightly; in a way that almost frightened him.

"Elsie."

He kissed her temple, his arms reaching round her, embracing her. He meant only to it in a gesture of comfort and nothing else; to let her know that it was alright if she wanted to stop, but in doing so he accidentally managed to knock more of the fabric away from her skin, and when his hands met her back it was over bare skin and corset. And, for the first time, a tiny, tiny moan escaped her lips.

His hands stilled a first, waiting to know if he could continue. It was only when he heard her heavy breathing beside his ear- all the more ragged for trying so hard to hold it back- that his control slipped and, reaching around her, he undid the first fastening of her corset. She did not stop him.

Her clothing removed but for her undergarment, he looked at her thoroughly, taking her in. Her wonderful, oblivious beauty lying beneath him drove him quite to distraction. Her chest was heaving, seemingly with some great effort, the low sound of her breathing barely escaping her lips before being pulled back. Cautiously, he raised a hand to her breast, drawing his thumb over the nipple and smoothing the outline with his palm. And then; a whimper, so quiet he barely heard it.

He had never known a woman like this before. He hadn't known a woman of any sort in a long time, come to that. But even when he had done, he hadn't ever known one to be so... quiet. It was almost as if she didn't want to be pleased. But that she had let him get this far contradicted that; he knew Elsie Hughes, if she didn't want him to love her, she certainly would have let him take her clothes off. And there was the hand softly pressing his head deeper into her bosom. It was more as if she didn't want to admit that she wanted to be pleased.

He laid a cautious hand on her waist, smoothing the thumb along the curve of her hip to the top of her undergarment, then withdrew it, watching her face. A flicker of disappointment, impossible to hide, passed over her face. He knew his course, then.

"Elsie," he whispered to her gently, "If you want me to make love to you, you have to let go."

There was a pause before his hand returned softly to her hip and he resumed kissing her. When he broke away again, he found that the intense expression of attempting to control herself- and very nearly losing the fight- had returned.

Very well, then. If she wouldn't let go of her own accord, he would just have to make sure there was nothing else she could do. He loved this woman more than anything in the world. She had let them get this far; there was no doubt that she wanted this. But she was trying to stop herself from really living it. Perhaps she thought that made it more acceptable. Perhaps she was embarrassed at this display of weakness. He would have to make sure that she knew that what was between them mattered far more than acceptability or weakness.

He started at her navel, kissing it, nuzzling against the skin of her belly. He felt her hands once more on his head- almost as if they were there involuntarily- giving him confidence. Then he moved down to her undergarment, pushing it carefully to the side, brushing his fingers against her. Another moan, slightly louder than before. Slipping his fingers under it, he pulled it down and off, moving back up her legs, gently setting them apart to kiss her centre. A whimper.

She was breathing more loudly now, he could feel her control slipping away from her, he could smell it in the scent of her as he rested his head on her thigh. Slowly, slowly, he inserted a finger, then another, waiting for her to respond. Something seemed to have caught in her throat, the sound that she made was oddly strangled.

Moving his fingers inside her, gradually increasing in pace, he listened, lifting his head to watch occasionally: her eyes were open now, but she was frowning deeply. The sounds that she made kept their involuntary edge, but she was finding it harder to control them. He held his hand to her hips: evidently, she held no sway whatever over the frantic bucking of her hips. Finally, his mouth joined his fingers, sucking on her; pushing her over the edge. He raised his head but continued to move his fingers so that once she come down from her first climax, the cry she let out not even having left her throat entirely, when her hips moved with a new erratic energy and she came again, slumping against his shoulder as he lay down to hold her. The sheets around them smelt of her.

"That's never happened to you before, has it?" he asked after a while of lying there.

He felt the embarrassed shake of her head against his shoulder. And he knew that she hadn't been a virgin. He noted that she was still trembling slightly. Brushing the hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead tenderly.

"I've never seen anything more beautiful," he told her.

She looked as if she didn't believe it for a moment.

"It's true," he whispered firmly, "And I'll prove it to you, not matter how long it takes. I love you."

He shifted his head to rest it on her breast. As the slightly hoarse voice issued above him, he felt the resonating of air in her lungs.

"I love you too, Charles."

**Please review if you have the time. **


	2. Chapter 2

**You know that inability I have to write oneshots... Hopefully it'll fit with the last chapter. **

She awoke some time later, his head pressing firmly on her chest in a reassuring way. In spite of this, she moved him softly to rest on the pillow and sat up, putting the oil lamp by her bedside on a low light. Trying not to move too much, worried that she might wake him, she took the remaining pins out of her hair and brushed it out, letting it lie on her shoulders. Then, she pulled the bed sheet softly up, hugging it around her breasts and rested back against the head board.

That hadn't been at all what she had been expecting. Of course, she had hoped, she had allowed herself to hope, that he might please her as well as himself; now it seemed that it would have been foolish to think that he might do anything other. But what he had in fact done... she had not been expecting that at all. She glanced down to her side where he lay still sleeping. Really, it had been selfish of her to allow herself to fall asleep before allowing him some pleasure too, but really, at the time it seemed that she had not been able capable of the vaguest thought.

Cautiously, her hand flitted out from under the blanket and stroked tenderly over his hair.

She had even thought that she had experienced pleasure before. How naïve she had been; thinking those quick, really rather uncomfortable, encounters might have been anything at all in comparison to this. The sheer intensity had shocked her almost beyond recognition, had over-whelmed her into a state of nearly terrified silence. Then, as he had gradually undone her with that catastrophically powerful release she had felt something go; her fear, her restraint, her sense of anything other than them.

…**...**

Having fallen asleep resting on her breast, he was mildly disappointed to wake with his head on a pillow. For a moment, he thought she had gone and left him, but as he left the fog of sleep, he realised that they were in fact in her room, and that the light was on. He shuffled a to sit up a little bit.

He found her sitting up, gazing down into her lap. For a second he thought she was half asleep, then her eyes turned towards him, and gave a small smile. In the dim, flickering light, with her long hair resting down over her shoulders, the bed sheet pressed down over her otherwise bear chest and her quiet expression she had an almost paradoxically virginal look about her.

Her hand rested on the mattress beside his head, and he brought his own hand to rest beside it. He felt her thumb grace shyly over his knuckle before they allowed their fingers to entwine. He kissed the tips of her fingers before drawing his arm around her and easing her to lie back down beside him.

"You still have your trousers on," she observed, as their legs bumped against each other, "They'll get awfully creased."

"I'll wear the other pair tomorrow," he told her dismissively, "Trust me, the disruption to the laundry is well worth it."

She was quiet for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she told him softly, barely making any sound at all, "I should have been more considerate of you before."

"Elsie," he turned his head slowly, liking the way her hair on the pillow rested against his face, meaning it quite sincerely, "You couldn't have been more considerate."

She had that look again, as if she didn't believe him. All he could think of to do was kiss her. And he was rewarded with a quiet groan from her lips. He wriggled a little distance away from her so that she was not frightened by the feeling of his excitement pressing up against her thigh. He suspected, though that it was rather too late.

"Charles," she whispered, "There's nothing wrong with wanting something from me too."

But this was so different, he thought, so different from any woman he'd wanted anything from before. This was _her_. But he felt his hand softly on his face and he knew she meant it.

"Charles," she told him, more softly still, "I'm yours. I'm not fragile, but I think it's fair to say that you've already broken me down quite nicely."

He groaned into her kiss as he felt her close the distance he had just created with her hand pressing firmly against his trousers.

"Off," she told him.

He gasped at the feeling of her hand on him.

"Elsie-..." 

"Shh."

She stroked him firmly, though not without a hint of uncertainty, of experimentation. The innocence remaining in her touch was intoxicating. He lay there, taking her touches for as long as he could stand.

"Elsie," he told her breathlessly, "Now, or it'll be too late." 

She moved to lie down.

"No," he took her by the arm, fighting to stay in control of himself, "I'm not sure if I-..."

She paused.

"You'll have to help me."

He nodded deftly, and she moved to kneel and straddle him. Taking her hips in his hands, he guided her down on to him. It was a great effort for him to keep still long enough to allow her to adjust. Then, cautiously, she began to raise and lower herself back onto him. He let out a groan with the feeling, raising his hips to meet her. Neither lasted very long, so near were they both to climaxing after what she had done to him. She stiffened and then went completely limp, sinking down into his arms as he exploded inside of her.

When their breathing had returned to normal they lay, still wrapped around each other; their minds still happily numb from release, feeling completely undone.

**Please review if you have the time.**


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